THE BETTS BROTHERS.
Tim Benson was right in saying that the rocky slopes crossed by him
and Gorilla Jake would not detain Buffalo Bill, or throw him off the
scent.
But the difficult character of the work slowed his progress, even
though he had with him such wonderful trailers as Nick Nomad and Wild
Bill Hickok.
As for the baron, he did not waste time in trying to spell out the
tracks--which he could not see at all without assistance, and hardly
then--but contented himself with looking ahead and around, thereby
performing a most useful service, as it would not have been advisable
for all the eyes of the party to engage in trail searching.
While doing his part of the work, the baron saw a man duck down
suddenly behind a rock.
“Vot iss?” he gasped, stopping dead in his tracks.
“Jes’ now it’s a fool Dutchman squawkin’ too loud!” Nomad flung at
him.
“Budt I seen somepoty.”
This attracted attention.
“What did yer see, Shnitz? Don’t stand thar gogglin’.”
“A man.”
“Benson, I reckon. Whar was he?”
“Budt idt vos nodt Penson. He iss a liddle veller. Dhis vos a dall
man, unt he vos vearing vhiskers!”
Buffalo Bill and the man from Laramie began to ask questions.
“Righdt py dot rock pehint I seen him, yoost now. He vos so dall like
he iss vearing sdilts, unt he haf longk vhiskers like a sbinach.”
“Which don’t prove et wasn’t Benson,” Nomad objected. “Thet feller
kin change his looks more than any actor thet ever helped ther
bloodhounds chase _Eliza_. When we last seen him he was wearin’ one
o’ Miss Vera Bright’s dresses and doin’ ther woman act. Benson is
rale cute.”
“Budt he couldn’t make himselluf so dall as dot, couldt he, mitout
sdilts?”
“Waal, who’s ter know he warn’t w’arin’ stilts?” said Nomad,
determined to meet all objections, for he was sure that the man seen
could be none other than Benson.
But a minute later he was undeceived; the man appeared in full view
for just a second, then jumped back behind his rock.
“Waugh!” Nomad whooped now, rubbing his eyes. “Ef thet ain’t ole Jim
Betts, I’m er Piegan.”
“Right-o! None other!” chimed in Wild Bill.
Buffalo Bill had discovered the same thing. He stepped out, so that
Jim Betts could see him clearly.
Thereupon the hidden man appeared again; this time coming toward them
with tremendous strides of his long, birdlike legs.
“Thunder and carry one!” the man from Laramie exploded. “What’s Betts
doing here?”
“Vhen he iss arrifed he vill exblandion idt,” suggested the German.
Jim Betts came up rapidly, his small head outthrust, his spinach
whiskers floating in the breeze.
“Howdy!” he called, yet he did not speak loud. “You out after the
same man we air?”
“If you are after Tim Benson, we are,” the scout told him.
Greetings followed.
“We ain’t after him,” said Betts; “we’re after Gorilla Jake, fer
knifin’ the mine superintendent at Sody Springs. Thar’s a big
reward out fer him, dead er alive; and wherever a reward floats its
invertation thar me and Bill is mighty cert’in to be found. We been
trailin’ him fer better’n a week. He’s been p’intin’ his nose toward
Blossom Range; but we rounded him up, arter a fashion, in these
hills, this mornin’, an’ air now lookin’ fer him.”
“Did he wear big boots?” asked the man from Laramie.
“Yoost so peeg as vot a grizzly bear vears?” added the German.
“Waal, he does. He’s a sort o’ grizzly, too; er, ruther, human ape.
If ye ever set eyes on him ye’ll never fergit him.”
Jim Betts took from his pocket a soiled reward advertisement, which
gave a very accurate description of Gorilla Jake; then the scout
recalled who the man was.
“I’ve heard of him, but never seen him,” he explained.
“Then you know he’s a troublesome citizen,” said Betts. “When I seen
you comin’ along hyer I couldn’t make out who ye was; so I dodged
behind that rock. Then I tuck the risk of showin’ myself, knowin’
that if you was friends, and recognized me, you would come on.
Brother Bill is out hyar some’eres.”
“Waugh!” Nomad’s face was wrinkling with smiles of pleasant
recollections. “I recomembers yer brother, all right. He’s ther
female. Bill still w’arin’ skirts now?” he asked.
“Not this trip; ’tain’t necessary. But he’s got his ole umbreller
with him. I prefers pistols and rifles m’self; but Bill he says give
him ther ole umbreller. It’s a wonder the way ther thing will shoot,
an’ ther way he kin shoot it.”
“You’ve seen those big tracks near here?” the scout queried, after
explaining further about Benson. “We lost them.”
“Yes,” said Betts.
“We’re follerin’ purty near by guesswork now,” Nomad admitted. “Yit I
cal’late we’re p’intin’ right.”
“Waal, I’m powerful glad t’see ye!” Betts asserted again. “Was your
man goin’ in this same direction?”
“Vot a kvestion!” exclaimed the baron. “Uff nodt, vouldt Puffalo Pill
pe going dhis vay?”
“Then we’ll go on together,” said Betts. “I likes to keep within clus
hailin’ distance o’ Brother Bill, as he’s a master hand to git into
trouble when I ain’t nigh to advise him.”
“An’ Bill says,” Nomad reminded, “that _he_ has continyul got ter
look out fer you, ter keep _you_ frum gittin’ inter trouble.”
“Jest his idee o’ humor,” Jim Betts asserted airily.
They were moving on together, across the stony land.
Half an hour later they came in sight of Bill Betts, crouched near
his gray umbrella gun, watching the hole where he believed Gorilla
Jake lay concealed.
When he saw his brother and the men with him, he stared; then he
lifted his hand, on recognizing them. After that he closed the
umbrella part of his gun, and slid backward, rising to his feet as
soon as he felt safe.
In a minute or two he was before them.
“Glad to see everybody--Cody specially!” he cried, making an
all-inclusive bow. “But right now I ain’t got time ter tork. Right
off thar is a hole what Gorilla Jake is hidin’ in, an’ another man
what’s a stranger ter me hidin’ with him. I’ve been holdin’ ’em in
thar by slammin’ away now and then with this ole air gun; and I’m
afraid they may make a break fer other cover unless we close up on
’em quick.”
They “closed up” on the hole amid the rocks, near the crest of the
ridge, following Bill Betts. He began to sing out for the occupants
of the hole to “surrender,” as soon as he was near enough.
“Might’s well come right out o’ that and save trouble,” he warned.
“I has got Cody and his crowd backin’ me now; and if we’re forced to
charge ye somebody’s goin’ to git hurt mighty bad. What do ye say?
Goin’ to surrender peaceable, er do we have to come fer ye on ther
run?”
Nomad, obeying a motion from Buffalo Bill, had hitched back, and was
now circling round the base of the ridge, to get on the other side.
But at a risk, the scout took a shorter cut to knowledge.
“Your men may not be in there,” he said to Betts.
He stood up quickly, inviting a bullet, and saw the hole made when
Gorilla Jake heaved aside the stones.
“The nest is empty!” he shouted; and started toward it with drawn
revolver.
“Iss dot so-o!” howled the baron, tumbling right after him. “Den ve
haf peen wit-oudted!” He meant out-witted.
The others followed.
“Thunder and carry one!” exploded the man from Laramie, as the
deserted hole in the rocks was reached and he looked about.
Bill Betts was stupefied.
“May I be doggone!” he said. “I reckon I’m about forty different
kinds of fools, fer not suspectin’ that. But, ye see, I didn’t
suppose them rocks could be lifted; fergittin’ that Gorilla Jake is a
human steam engine, when it comes to strength.”
He began to look about on the other side of the ridge, searching for
the tracks of the fugitives there, a work in which he soon had plenty
of assistance.